


Even Cold Wars Have Warm Days Sometimes

by HeartofCanada (Tassledown), Tassledown



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred switches languages by oops, Cold War Era, Cooking, Disordered Eating, Human Names Used, M/M, food talk, transgender character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 11:51:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3119105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassledown/pseuds/HeartofCanada, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassledown/pseuds/Tassledown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America is struggling after a meeting (and three days of not being able to make himself eat) and Russia asks if he can help. Any distraction is a good one and when Russia proves to actually be good company, America tries to keep him around for the rest of the evening with no plans other than to just keep things going well - and maybe see just how well they go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even Cold Wars Have Warm Days Sometimes

**Author's Note:**

> CONTENT WARNING: Since this is Alfred's POV, there is a lot of disordered thinking about food although not much negative self-talk. His relationship to his eating disorder is on the upswing, wherein he knows it's a problem and is trying to fix it. There is talk about purging (and avoiding doing it), over-exercising, and limiting food intake (to avoid bingeing.)  
> (Feel free to crit me on if anything seems unrealistic.)
> 
> >Ultimately this story is focused on the RusAme ship and Russia being nice and America taking care of himself, not the recovery (that just kind of got away from me just based on what they wound up doing.) Please enjoy the ship and the happy sex at the end.
> 
> (This fic technically ties in with the RusPrus fic "When Prussia is Not Making War", as happening several years after it, but they're not required to understand the other it just gives more background to Ivan's behaviour in this one.)

Alfred dropped his papers again while trying to put them into his briefcase and just gave up on it. He sat down at the table again and started to pick them up, to at least get them onto the table before he decided what to do. His politicians filed out around him, none of them even looking twice at what had become almost a regular event at the end of a meeting. He was too tired to be doing this, but the reason he'd been in meetings all day, every day, for the past week was standing and translating politely for one of his politicians talking to one of Alfred's. 

Russia's Nation had his hands tucked into the pockets of his long black wool coat. It wasn't part of a suit – he shouldn't have been wearing it, frankly – but it didn't appear Russia's boss had made him change. Alfred shrugged his shoulders in his own coat that didn't fit his skinny shoulders at all and sat wrong over his hips, but he didn't have the ability to fight with them if he wanted to attend the meetings. 

He got the rest of the papers onto the table and sorted them idly – and likely not very well – as he watched Russia finish translating for the politicians and the two left the room, the last people to go aside from Alfred and Russia himself. Alfred turned his eyes to his papers again and picked up his briefcase to put it on the table and try to slip them into the slots this way, only to watch them crush, over and over until his eyes welled with tears and he had to stop.

“Could I help?” Russia asked in English.

Alfred cursed and pulled his glasses off, rubbing his eyes on his sleeve and regretting it immediately. “Ow, fuck! What are you doing? Didn't you leave?”

“You looked like you were having trouble,” Russia said calmly. “Would you like help?”

“I just haven't eaten today,” Alfred mumbled. He jerked the handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and dabbed at his eyes. “And I couldn't sleep.” 

Because he hadn't eaten in three days, but that wasn't something he could really change right now. 

“Ah. The meetings are very long, da.” Russia agreed. “May I?”

He still hadn't moved to touch his briefcase. Alfred stared at him a little in surprise and then got up and shrugged. “Go ahead. It's just stupid.”

“You seem tired. Would you like to get something to eat?”

“My boss won't like that.”

“We are getting along. It should be good, yes? You will show me your – your burgers and we can say you are to introduce me to what is so wonderful about your Capitalism and I am to say I am getting to know you and what you like to show you the better way we do things?”

Alfred smiled and dreaded the idea, but his mouth said “Sure, that'd be great.”

Russia shut his briefcase, the papers squared away neatly, and locked it before standing up holding it. “Can you put this away easily?”

“Um, my office isn't far. I can take it, it's fine.”

“If you wish.”

Alfred took the briefcase and walked out, checking that Russia was following him nervously. He slipped into his office, put the briefcase down just inside the door and then went the rest of the way in and switched out his suit coat for his bomber jacket before locking the door behind himself. “So did you have a place you really wanted to go to?”  
“I would like to see where you most enjoy going to eat.”

“Oh.” Alfred took a slow breath and smiled at him. “Honestly, I kind of like Chinese food?”

“I would be happy to try your Chinese restaurants.”

“This way.” Alfred led him outside and down the street, smiling and making polite conversation. Russia kept up remarkably well. At the restaurant, Alfred ordered for them both and tried not to think about anything but whether he could stand letting it go down his throat.

When he sat down with it, he started to move it around his plate, stopped himself and ate two bites before he looked up at Russia again. “Thanks for helping me out.”

“It was nothing. I had wanted to talk to you anyways.”

“Oh?” Alfred swallowed hard and drank a bit of water. “What about?”

“I was wondering what kind of person you were.”

“What, you didn't get enough of a sense of that from work?”

“Work is bad for meeting people. I want to know Alfred not America.”

“So does this mean I can call you Ivan?”

“Da, I would like that.”

Alfred shot him a beaming smile. “Okay!” He relaxed a bit more and carried on eating, watching Ivan curiously. “Why do you care, I mean isn't your government all hostile and things?”

“It is, but it is not always right, their opinions.”

“Okay, I'll believe that. But why do you want to get to know Alfred?”

Ivan watched him levelly across the table. “You are young, for a Nation.”

“Dude, that's kind of creepy.”

Ivan smiled and laughed lightly, trying the food and making a face at it. He muttered, “You call this Chinese?” under his breath in Russian and Alfred laughed harder.

“I know, it's totally not typical Chinese but it still tastes good and it's a nice change sometimes.”

Ivan gave him a startled look in response. “I did not know you spoke Russian.”

Alfred gave him a confused look back. “I don't.”

“But you are speaking Russian.”

“Wha – aw, shit.” Alfred groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “Sorry, this happens sometimes.”

Ivan's mouth twitched. “Can you not switch back to English on your own?”

“I could, I just have to get up and go talk to someone and I'd have to leave the restaurant or I'm going to switch into Chinese instead.” He glared at his plate and was surprised to notice it was half empty, that he'd eaten most of it in his distraction. He quickly spread out the rest of the food and focused on Ivan again. “It happens like that, sometimes, 'cause I've got so many immigrants and most of them still know their languages but they think they're mine, so I get them in bits and pieces but not because I learned it so it's hard to switch just because.”

“I see.” Ivan nodded. “It does not bother me to speak Russian with you.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Alfred laughed and fidgeted with his hands. “So, um, how familiar are you with Chinese food?”

“I have been close with China for a long time now. I visit him lately and we eat his food and I can tell yours is not his.”

“It's what we have here, and what got popular. I mean, nobody outside the China towns is going to appreciate some of the other stuff, not enough to make it worth selling easily.” Alfred perked up. “But some places will give you a different menu if you make it clear you know the languages well, so if I feel like trying something else I just try to talk to the server's first and if I switch into Mandarin or Cantonese they let me get it and then I just have to ask them to help me pick something 'cause I still can't read it.”

“I can get by, reading it,” Ivan agreed. “But it is not easy.”

“Yeah. I want to learn, maybe, but I don't have time.”

“You try very hard to do well. It is nice.”

Alfred blushed harder and swallowed, hoping his stomach would settle down. “What, is it that odd that I try?”

“It is... perhaps, yes.” Ivan shrugged. “You are different than the rest of Europe, because you grew up differently.”

“Not that differently.”

“You are a Nation that spans a continent, like me, without significant neighbours.”

“Just whoever decides to make the trip to bother me.” Alfred sighed and smiled. “You're almost a big as I am.”

“I am much larger,” Ivan said simply. “And older.”

“Yeah, sure, I remember. It's not like there's that much you do in Siberia; it's like trying to ask Mattie what's going on at Ellesmere Island.” Alfred gestured at Ivan's face with the chopsticks. “Sure, there's activity there and he claims it, but it's not like it's land his capital's actually planning to do something with.”

“We have plenty of plans for the far East of our country.” Russia said mildly.

“As if I could forget. Mattie's been grouchy at me for months about it.” Alfred snorted again.

“Does it bother you?”

“Which part? That you're all set up to attack me because of the nuclear bomb stuff, or that Mattie's unhappy we're going to be fighting in his airspace?”

“Either of it.”

Alfred licked bits of sauce off his lips and fished around his plate again for more. He glanced down and realized it was empty, and quickly pushed it off to one side. He skipped his soft drink for water and prayed he could keep it down. “Probably. I mean, I don't want to bring Mattie into this. I know why you want to attack me, and all I can think is that you can fucking bring it on.”

“Da,” Ivan agreed. He glanced down at his own plate and pushed it aside as well, half-eaten. Alfred thought about asking to finish it – he really did love the food – but he needed to keep something down, he couldn't eat it now. “Do you want me to pay?”

“I –” Need to stay away from more food stuff. “Sure. I'll wait outside.”

He walked out to the front of the place and swallowed again, hugging himself a little, his eyes half-closed. He could do this. He knew he needed to stop fighting himself, fighting to eat, not to eat, to eat too much. It went back and forth so much. 

He'd managed to finish his plate, at least. Now he just had to keep it down.

He could already taste bile in the back of his throat.

“Alfred?” Ivan asked. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

Walks were good; better than throwing up. “Sure.” He tucked his hands in his bomber jacket and huddled a little, following Ivan up the street. He pointed out a few parks, and some of his favourite stores. After a while, however, he started to shiver and, once they were in a kind of out of the way corner, Ivan touched his shoulder cautiously.

“Are you alright?”

Alfred blanched and stared up at him. “What?”

“You're shivering.”

“Oh. That.” He chewed his lip and shrugged. “I'm just cold.”

“You are not dressed for the weather.”

“It's fall. It's not that cold yet.” Alfred glowered at him. He rolled the words in his mouth, trying to feel the Russian syllables and failing as they just felt normal with how everything had switched over in his mind. 

“Do you want to go inside somewhere?”

He wanted to avoid places convenient to throw up at. “Maybe one of the shops?”

“If you like.”

Alfred picked one and went in, but he was getting tired and Ivan was starting to watch him intently. He kept up chattering anyways until he realized they were maybe a twenty minute walk from his house and he really needed to go home.

“Hey, do you want to come back to my place?” Alfred smiled up at Ivan and got a raised eyebrow in response.

“For what?”

“I dunno, I like talking to you but you know I'm tired. I still need to unwind a little and, you know, you said you wanted to get to know me.”

“I can come with you, yes.”

“Great.” Alfred slapped his shoulder and wished he was wearing something less male right now, because what he wanted was to hang on him, heavily, and just act like a silly girlfriend who needed a hand getting home, because really that was what he needed right now.

And maybe if he was, he could wind up not alone later that night.

They were halfway to his house when Ivan slid his arm around his shoulders and pulled him against his side. “You are very cold, aren't you?” he asked.

Alfred blushed and didn't answer. “I wasn't –”

“You were leaning into my side. Would you like to share my coat?”

“I'm not that short!”

“It is a very large coat.”

Alfred ignored the raging heat in his face and added “Are you flirting with me?” 

“Do you want me to?”

Alfred pulled out part of his coat and tucked himself into it in answer, almost tripping over his feet in relief at the warmth. Entirely because he was warm and not because it was nice to be pressed into him like that, he turned and hugged him around the waist and buried his face in his neck.

“How far is it to your house?” Ivan asked.

“A bit,” Alfred mumbled. “Another two blocks.” His legs were shaking a little at the thought.

Ivan bent down a little and picked him up against his chest and started walking. Alfred yelped but slid his arms around his neck in panic to not get dropped.

“What the Hell is that for?” Alfred yelped.

“You are tired. I can carry you that far, you are not too much.”

“I don't need to be fucking carried,” Alfred protested, but he kept his arms around his neck anyways, watching nervously for anyone who might be staring. He leaned into him harder and tried to hide his face, look more like he needed carrying than like he was enjoying the attention. 

“If you wish me to put you down, you can ask.” Ivan was already walking. Alfred didn't object, relieved but getting colder as his body stopped moving – but this way he'd be home sooner, without overworking himself. 

He should eat before he did anything else at home, but he didn't want to. Ivan had eaten recently. What did he even have to make? He gave up and asked “Do you want anything? I can make you something.”

“We can see what you have. Have you not been eating well?” 

Alfred didn't look up from his neck, didn't want to see his face. “I forgot lunch today. I just figured I could pay you back for the ride home, that's all.”

“I would be happy to eat with you again.”

“Sweet.” Alfred sighed and just leaned into him again, happy and relaxed. 

As his house came into view, Alfred asked “Why are you being so nice, anyways?”

“It makes for good diplomacy, to be nice when someone else is not well.”

“My country's doing fine.” Alfred snarked.

“Did Angliya never explain to you that you can be unwell for your own reasons without necessarily your country being unwell?”

“He didn't need to,” Alfred grumbled. “I'm not unwell.”

“Of course, Fredka, you are fine and simply overworked.”

Alfred did not read into his tone anything, and when they reached his front walk Alfred squirmed out of his hold and walked up to the door himself to unlock it and push it open.  
“Ta-da!” He turned and smiled at Ivan. “This is my house. I've got some great stuff, see?”

“I'm sure you will show me it all,” Ivan said dryly. “Perhaps we should start in the kitchen? You can warm up by the stove.”

“Yeah, sure! I'll make you something great.” Assuming he had any groceries left, but he'd deal with that if he had to; he had his car now. He walked into the kitchen and frowned around it. He pulled out juice and poured himself a glass, to stop himself shaking, and then scowled at the rest of the fridge. He could make cookies, he realized, but did he have anything more solid?

He could start with cookies. That was good for company, and he'd just send the excess home with Ivan. 

“What are you going to make?”

“I have stuff for chocolate chip cookies, have you had them before?” He quickly checked the cupboards to confirm he had chocolate chips and hauled down the bag and flour and other parts of the recipe.

“I don't believe so.” Ivan said. Alfred glanced over at him and found him leaning on the counter, still in his heavy coat.

“Do you ever take that thing off?” Alfred asked.

Ivan responded by doing so, draping it over the back of a chair and returning to leaning on the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. Alfred turned away to hide a blush. Ivan looked really good without his coat on, and abruptly he was rather glad the other Nation kept it on for meetings.

He still hadn't taken off the scarf, and he looked kind of silly in that too, but he wasn't going to mention it. 

Cooking wasn't impossible. He actually did pretty well – he only dropped one egg, and half a cup of flour and was grateful again for having plastic salt shakers because he dropped that twice, too. He simply stepped around the mess until he could move to another counter, and when he turned to start cleaning up he found Ivan already there wiping the floor.  
“You don't have to do that,” Alfred protested. “I was gonna get to it.”

“You are doing fine. I can do this for you, it is not a trouble.”

“Kay,” Alfred mumbled. He finished mixing up the batter and tasted it again, happy with the flavour. “This is good, you should try some.”

Ivan gave him a sceptical look. “I have heard things about the state of your eggs.”

“Oh shut up and give it a try anyways, my eggs aren't going to kill you. You make it sound like we poison them on purpose.”

“Your farms are filthy.” Regardless of his protests, Ivan dipped a finger into the batter and tried it, licking his lips and smiling. “It is good. It would be better if you had better practices.”

“Put a cork in it,” Alfred said crossly. He pulled out the pans and began to form the cookies, happily hovering by the stove for heat. “You'll like them even more when they come out and the chocolate's melting all over your tongue.”

“Do you usually eat them straight out of the oven?” Ivan asked skeptically. “Would they not burn?”

“Are you just scared 'cause you never get any decent heat in your country? They go on a cooling rack first – those're under the stove if you want to grab them – and then you eat them after they've sat for a few minutes but the chocolate's still gooey.”

“I will watch you and we will see. Did you just plan to make cookies?”

“I haven't decided what else I have around to make.” Alfred sighed, not looking forward to that. “I'll figure it out after these are done.”

“May I look?”

“Go ahead.” Alfred turned a little so he could put the first batch in and started to fill the next pan with cookie dough balls. Ivan looked through his cupboards and fridge and began to set things out – a couple pots, potatoes and wilted carrots and a couple eggs he put on to boil and then his mayonnaise and sandwich meats. Alfred gave him a confused look. “What're you gonna make?”

“It is simple.” Ivan said. “And it will keep well, until you can buy more food.”

“Yeah, but what is it?” Alfred repeated.

“Olivye. It is a kind of salad.”

“You have a weird definition of a salad.”

Ivan laughed under his breath and leaned on the counter to start peeling the potatoes in response. Alfred stole a few more bites from the cookie dough and watched him cook, more curious now than upset at the thought. He didn't have to eat what he made after all; it was gonna be weird, so he had every excuse to pass on it after it was done. But it'd be interesting to try it and he'd have to go shopping to replace what he used, and not because his kitchen was half-empty.

Fortunately he had a lot of counterspace. Alfred was able to set the cookies out to cool across from where Ivan was working and transferred the other pan into the oven and almost filled a third. He ate a couple more pieces of the dough raw, because he didn't have to fill the pan, it'd just make for more cookies he had to deal with after if he did, and then dumped the mixing bowl into the sink before going back to check on Ivan.

“Is there anything you want me to do?”

“Would you fish out the eggs for me?”

“Why not just dump the pot?”

“Because I am going to cook the rest of the food in there.”

“Oh, right, sure.” Alfred got a spoon and fished the eggs out into another bowl, taking them to the sink to run cold water on them so he could start to peel them without burning his fingers. 

He busied himself with that, asked what to do next and chopped them – stealing a few pieces, before Ivan could ruin them with whatever he was going to do, and because he had no idea how much he'd eaten since they started cooking and that was a good thing – and then put the chopped up pieces by Ivan. He moved over to the counters he was using and started on the next bit that needed chopped for what Ivan was making. Everything was getting cut into little pieces. Alfred smiled happily at it and continued to steal food. He gave Ivan an innocent look when he noticed.

“What?” Alfred asked.

“It is nothing.”

“You're staring.”

“You have very busy fingers.”

“Sorry, should I do something else with them?”

“Nyet, it is fine. You are helping.”

“Yeah. Oh hey! The cookies should be cool enough to eat!” Alfred darted over and took a bite of one, just to be sure they were cool enough, and groaned happily. “Oh man, they're good!”

“Are they?” Ivan asked. “Can you bring me one? My hands are very dirty.”

“Sure!” Alfred picked up two and crossed the kitchen to hold one up for Ivan to take a bite of as he finished his first and started on a second. “I love it when I get them at this point. They always taste best.”

Ivan took an almost dainty bite of the cookie offered to him and Alfred laughed back at him. “What, you don't trust my cooking?”

“After what you consider Chinese food... no, I do not.”

“Sucker.” Alfred snickered. “I told you I know it's not real.” 

“Yes, but you still eat it. May I have another bite?” 

Alfred offered him the cookie again and leaned on the counter, finishing his own and giving him the last piece before he swapped out the pans again and put the last batch in. He stared at the array of cookies on his counter and got down a container to put them all in to send away with Ivan – with a few he'd set aside to keep.

Ivan was chopping the cooked potatoes and carrots now, the rest of the food dumped into a big bowl that looked either appalling or really appealing – but perhaps that was near-starvation talking.

“What are you going to do to it?” Alfred asked skeptically.

“It will be mixed with mayonnaise and served cold.”

“And it tastes good?” Alfred asked. “Or are your tastebuds supposed to freeze off first.”

“We will see if you like it or not. Your meats needed used anyways. You should buy more dry ones; they will keep longer.” 

“Maybe, yeah.” Alfred eyed the bowl of food again and took the pot to dump out the used water, then started washing the dishes as he waited for Ivan to finish, needing something to do with his hands that wasn't snacking on more of the cookies. 

Ivan soon handed over most of the utensils he'd been using. “Do you wish to eat it now, or let it cool?”

“Lemme give it a try now, use the little bowls?”

“Alright.” Ivan dished up two small servings and put the rest of the bowl away in the fridge, covered with a plate. Alfred finished the dishes and drained it, then picked up the bowl and stuck a spoonful in his mouth. He made something of a face, but chewed and swallowed and took another bite. 

He still couldn't decide if it was terrible or not, but he didn't want to eat more of it, so he might as well finish the bowl. Across from him, Ivan ate without comment as well. 

Once his bowl was clean and on the counter again, Alfred made a show of making a face and got himself a glass of water. 

“That was weird, Ivan.”

“I am glad you tried it. Do you want me to take it with me when I go?”

“Nah, you can leave it here for a bit, it'll be something to take to meetings at least. The meats should keep another couple days, right?”

“If you wish to push your luck.”

“Don't care. You want a drink to rinse that out of your mouth?”

Ivan nodded and gave him a look of amusement. He took the water, then went and grabbed a cookie instead. Alfred snorted.

“You can take those with you, though. I don't need the whole batch hanging around.”

“I would be happy to.” Ivan crossed to test how cool the cookies were and then used the proximity to turn and touch Alfred's face. “You said you also wanted company?”

Alfred knew he was blushing hard. “I'm not sure, I mean, yeah but...”

“I will not push. We can simply talk again.”

“Sure, that'd be – somewhere to start. Hey, I can show you around my place?”

“That will be nice.” 

Alfred caught his arm to pull him out of the kitchen to see the rest of the house. Ivan went along with it with good humour, making vaguely snide comments whenever Alfred would point out something new in the furnishings and Alfred grinned and sniped back. For his part, Ivan made it clear that the arguing had no heat behind it, as he made a point to stand close by and touch his shoulder or his back or his arm. 

By the time they got upstairs, Alfred was full of a fuzzy happiness that almost made him trip on his own tongue. 

Well, not almost.

“Is there a reason you felt the need to have your bed take up most of the space in your bedroom?” Ivan asked. 

“The room is more than long enough to have a sex foot bed – six, _six_ foot long bed in the room.” He swallowed. “It's not like I plan to have that many six foot or taller giants in it.”

“Is it long enough for a taller than six foot giant to be in it, is that it?” Ivan asked mildly.

“You wanna lie down and check?” Alfred said sarcastically.

Ivan smirked at him and sat on the bed. Alfred put his hands on his hips.

“Hey, you're taking your boots off before you lie down the rest of the way!”

“Am I?” Ivan asked. “Should I take anything else off?”

“Are you not gonna get back off the bed after, is that it?”

“Perhaps I won't if I like it.” Ivan bent down to undo his boots and put them by the end of the bed. He lay down along it and the bed was long enough for him, barely, his feet only a few inches from the end of the bed. Alfred smirked and walked over to sit on the bed and straddle him with a grin.

“Do you like it, then?” he asked.

Ivan raised an eyebrow at him. “I'm not sure how I feel about some of the accessories?”

“You got a problem with getting extras with your stuff? Not fair to the masses if one bed comes with a perk others don't have?”

“Perhaps there are too many pillows.” Ivan rested his hands on Alfred's hips and raised an eyebrow back at him.

“So dump them off.”

“And what should I do about the blanket it comes with?”

“You got a problem with my sheets?”

“Your quilt is too thin.”

“My quilt is fine, I don't know what you're talking about.” Alfred crossed his arms.

“I worry perhaps you will get cold without company. Should I keep you warm?”

Alfred shivered a little again, not sure if it was memory or annoyance at the reminder. He leaned down and kissed him instead, pressing into his lips with tongue and teeth to see how he replied.

Ivan wrapped his arms over Alfred's back and, well, it turned out he was good at this. Alfred pulled back to pant a little and then pressed into him again, enjoying his attentions. He tasted like cookies and mayonnaise and Alfred ignored it to enjoy the attention on his mouth and Ivan's hands as he slipped then up his back.

Once he reached the halfway point of his back, Ivan pulled back from his lips to ask “May I take your clothes?”

“Nn, yeah?” Alfred moaned and relaxed his shoulders, sitting up to give Ivan more room to undo the buttons and push it off him, then to pull his undershirt off.

Abruptly Alfred realized his scars were still very visible and that he wasn't at all sure he wanted to have this conversation with Ivan. The other Nation frowned at them as he saw it and Alfred coughed uncomfortably, crossing his arms over his chest to hide it.

Ivan looked up at him, curious, and then added “You do not have to explain.”

“I, I just, it was something that – wasn't right, and I, they've gotten better so I had them fix it.” He ducked his head and leaned down against his chest nervously. “There's, um, it's...”

Ivan stroked his back for another minute before he said “Your chest did not look right for the way you feel, then?”

“Yeah,” Alfred whispered. “It – I was a girl, but I never felt like one.” He cringed at having to say it like that, but he didn't know a better way to do so.”

“You're a man and your body didn't match that,” Ivan replied.

“Y-yeah. How did you...?”

“I know another Nation like you.”

“Oh. Really?” Alfred pushed himself up a little. “Who is it?”

Ivan shook his head. “I do not believe he would want me to say. I know more than one, actually, but it is private.”

“Yeah, you're right, of course. I'm sorry, I shouldn't ask.” Alfred swallowed. “But – this isn't just me? It happens to Nations too? I knew it happened to people, but not to us.”

Ivan nodded, running his hands up and down his back as Alfred shivered happily at the attention, at realizing this was going so well. “It happens to Nations, Alfred. You are okay.”

Alfred bit his lip so he didn't get more emotional and bent down to kiss Ivan again. He leaned into his body as if he could melt into his chest, moaning against him and rubbing his hips overtop of him. Ivan grunted in reply and ran his hands over his ass and down his thighs.

“Is there – things I should avoid doing?” Ivan asked hoarsely. “Places I shouldn't touch?”

“I don't care.” Alfred groaned. “I like sex and just – don't call me any girl names or things, okay? Or treat me like a girl or talk about it or just – I just like sex and I just want it to be sex and not something complicated.”

“Do you like anal sex?” Ivan asked calmly and Alfred's face heated up again. He buried it in the pillow by Ivan's head and groaned.

“Yeah?” he asked, a little muffled.

“Then I would like to do it to you.”

Alfred was sure that shouldn't make his body twitch and ache for him to be naked and doing it already. He swallowed and rolled off Ivan to start undoing his pants with shivering hands. “I should be the one fucking you, you know,” Alfred said.

“I do not enjoy being fucked like that, but perhaps if we know each other you could do other things to me if you so wished.”

“Like what?” Alfred asked suspiciously. He sat up and tucked his legs up, naked but not comfortable yet. He smirked a little as he watched Ivan pull his own shirt off and then push down his pants, staring unashamedly at his cock as it came out of his pants. “Aw man, your cock's nice.”

“Is it?” Ivan turned to look back at him, his cheeks pink. “I am glad you like it.” 

He sat back down on the bed and Alfred pushed him up and jerked the blankets down. “Sit under them, I'm cold still.” 

“Do you not have anything to use to heat this place yet?”

“I haven't started firing it yet,” Alfred grumbled. “It's just October.”

“Ah, yes.” Ivan joined him under the blankets. “I would think most Americans would use theirs at the first sign of cold.”

“I'm better than that, I don't need to go through coal that much.” Alfred pressed up against his chest gratefully. “I don't mind the cold usually.”

“Mmm,” Ivan agreed. He wrapped his arms around his back and kissed his mouth and then down his neck. Alfred groaned and pressed into him with a happy sigh, feeling his cock hard against the edge of his thigh and biting his lip – well, biting Ivan's – in anticipation. 

“You don't have to...” Alfred panted. “I'm okay with – not anal sex, too.”

“It's no trouble for me, Fredka.” Ivan murmured. “Do not offer it just to make things easier for me; only if you want it.”

“Right, you're right.” Alfred swallowed and rolled the nickname through his mouth. “Vanya?” he ventured.

“Da?” Ivan asked.

“That's right, isn't it? You're Vanya in Russian?”

“If we are close, da.”

“I'm gonna call you Vanya if you're calling me Fredka,” Alfred said firmly. 

“I would be happy if you called me Vanya,” Ivan said. His mouth had a small twist at the edges and he moved down the blankets, kissing the edge of Alfred's collarbones. He slipped one hand between Alfred's legs and started to massage around the edge of his anus. 

Alfred spread his legs wider and pushed into his touch with a moan. “Vanya...”

“Yes, Fredka?”

“You're so nice...”

“I can be. Do you have things for sex here?”

“Shit, yeah, they're in the table drawer just – there!” Alfred pointed and Ivan reached into the drawer to find it. He paused after a moment and drew out a handgun instead.

Ivan gave him a dry look. “Alfred, why is this in your dresser?”

“Where else should I put it?” Alfred groaned impatiently. “The lube's in a little tin.”

“Do you have condoms?”

“Um, I think so?”

Ivan muttered something under his breath about foolish men who can get pregnant and Alfred muffled a laugh. 

“I thought we were going to have anal sex,” Alfred teased.

“We are, but the last man didn't.” Ivan shook his head. “It is of no importance.”

He did find both and put them both to use shortly. Alfred clung to his chest and wrapped his legs around his waist, pulling him closer and deeper until he reached orgasm. Alfred followed shortly, clinging and moaning and not wanting him to let go. Ivan disposed of the condom but Alfred dragged him back against him in bed with a little whine.

“Are you well, Fredka?” Ivan asked.

“I'm fine.” Alfred muttered. “Just want you to hold me. Please?”

“I can.” Ivan turned around under the blankets again and pulled Alfred to his chest. He looked around the room and shook his head. “I will get you a better blanket.”

“I have some,” Alfred grumbled. “They're in storage.”

“I will still get you some, unless you do not like gifts.”

Alfred was glad he was facing away from Ivan. “No, I like gifts,” he mumbled. “You're just weirding me out, being this nice.”

“I can of course stop if you wish me to.” His tone sounded amused, and his arm squeezed lightly around his waist. 

Alfred relaxed against him again and closed his eyes with a sigh. “I don't know. Do you have to go back to your hotel? I mean, are they going to miss you?”

“They will miss me and it will not be a problem that they do.”

“So, um, do you want to stay? The night, I mean.” Alfred closed his eyes nervously, not sure which answer he thought would be best.

“It is a little early to sleep.”

“Yeah, I know, but after, I mean. We can watch TV and sit on the couch until then. If you want to.” His head told him not to demand attention like that, but he wasn't demanding attention, it was a mutual thing, hanging out with someone. 

It was fine.

“I would be happy to stay,” Ivan said, and Alfred squirmed happily against him. He turned and pressed a kiss against his mouth in thanks.


End file.
